In the dead of winter, I imagine Minnie and Flo will spent their nights in the warm farmhouse. Minnie has always liked dark and safe places. Since her leg amputation, she favors tunnels she makes between the hay  bales. Saturday Maria and I went to the town dump, and we came across this ratty and tattered and beautiful old cushioned chair. We think it’s quite old. We looked at each other and said at the same time – “Minnie” – so we hauled the chair home and dragged it into a corner of the big barn. We put an old sheepskin rug over it and sure enough, the next time we came into the barn, Minnie had made it her throne.

It’s the perfect place for her, dry, warm and private, she can see the world coming. This is where she resides, Minnie on her throne.